


Quibbler Unsolved: Christmas Edition

by NeonTinkerbell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Everything and Everyone Will Be Okay In The End, Female Friendship, First Christmas after the Battle of Hogwarts, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Light Angst, Platonic Emotional and Physical Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21899824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonTinkerbell/pseuds/NeonTinkerbell
Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, and through snowy fields stumbledGinny, Luna and Hermione, yet not one of them grumbledFor too ensnared they were, by their current debateOf an age-old question that carried much weightAbout that mythic legend of a merry figure all dressed up in redWill they reach an answer before they all fall down drunk in bed?
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Quibbler Unsolved: Christmas Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honeyydukkes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=honeyydukkes).



> This work was created for the Witchsweekly Gift Exchange and is gifted to [@yuleballrobes](http://yuleballrobes.tumblr.com)/[@honeyydukkes](http://honeyydukkes.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you for your awesome inspiration in your sign-up request! I've taken some liberties with your idea's but hopefully, this fic captures the spirit of what you were looking for!
> 
> Huge thank you to my beta editor [frnklymrshnkly!](/users/frnklymrshnkly/)

Ginny allowed her head to loll back and she gazed up into the infinity of the night sky. Crystal clear, the stars shone against their blue-black backdrop. The waxing moon floated over her queendom, illuminating their path through the snowy fields of Ottery St Catchpole. Which was lucky, as they were all so bloody smashed none of them could hold a proper Lumos, let alone Apparate.

Hermione’s arm hooked through Ginny’s right, tugging her forward and out of her musings. Ginny stumbled along, dragging Luna with her.

“C’mon you two, can’t be that far,” slurred Hermione. Her bushy brown curls bobbed along with her jaunty step. 

Ginny did not want to mention that had barely come halfway, so she said the first thing that popped into her mind.“How do Muggles celebrate Christmas?”

Hermione stopped dead. Ginny almost missed the movement in time to stop herself. Luna continued to amble forward until their linked arms pulled her up. Luna turned, blinking owlishly at them with a crooked smile. 

“What?” Hermione was now looking at her quizzically, as if she’d suggested she wanted a Hippogryph for her number one present this year. 

“Muggles… Christmas...? You know...?” Ginny gestured vaguely towards her with the free part of her right arm. 

“Oh!” Hermione laughed, her curls bouncing enthusiastically as she shook her head. “Same as Wixen, Christmas tree, family celebrations, presents...“ Hermione squinted at her. “Didn’t you take Muggle Studies?” Her tone of incredulousness at passing up an academic learning experience was not lost on Ginny, despite her inebriation.

“No, not till sixth year anyway.” If Ginny had thought about it, she probably should have known that. It wasn’t like Hermione had ever been unfamiliar with anything that had happened during a magical Christmas.

Hermione looked briefly disgusted, then she continued. “Although not all Muggle’s are Christain or follow the traditions of Christain celebra…” Hermione trailed off, her mouth still moving. She looked up and away from them. There was a soft crunching of snow next to her. Ginny felt Luna slide into her, and her head came to rest on Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny smiled.

“So, wait, no…” Oh, Hermione was back with them. She was now staring at Ginny, her brows creased. “So… Why do Wixen celebrate the Christian traditions of Christmas when they were persecuted by them during the majority of the 17th century?”

Ginny shrugged with her one free shoulder and shot Hermione a look that would hopefully communicate that this was the end of this discussion. “Let’s keep moving. It’s cold as Merlin's saggy balls out here.”

“Language!”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but Hermione didn’t protest and dutifully fell into step beside her and Luna.

“It’s because Santa Claus is actually the immortal witch Hulda.” Came the soft and dreamy reply.

Hermione stopped dead, this time yanking Ginny to a stop with her. Luna bounced at the end of their monkey chain and stumbled back into Ginny’s side. Ginny almost lost her footing at the impact, only just managing to stay upright. She glared at Hermione.

Hermione ignored her in favour of glaring at the blonde at Ginny’s side. Oblivious to the entire exchange, Luna was occupied with examining a lock of her hair.

“Whaddya mean immortal witch Hulda?!” Hermione’s shriek carried across the open field and a family of wood pigeons scattered from their nearby roost. She tipped forward at the force of her own words, steadying herself on Ginny’s arm. Under normal circumstances, Ginny disliked being so tall. Tonight, however, it was a blessing.

“Oh.” Luna let her hair drop and smiled brightly at Hermione. “Hulda is an immortal witch who wears a red-cloak and flies on a broom.” Luna swayed slightly on the spot. The wind had started to pick up and it was hard to say if it was that or the alcohol causing her to waver. Probably both. “She’s also the protector of children. The ones who have been good, she fills their shoes with presents.” 

Ginny felt Luna’s arm snake further through her own, and Luna pressed a pair of her fingers to her lips in concentration. “Oh! She’s sometimes accompanied by her elk companions.” With that Luna gave a satisfied nod and smiled expectantly at Ginny and Hermione.

Ginny strode forward, pulling her two companions after her and attempting to prevent the cauldron of explosive indignation and knowledge she knew would be brewing in Hermione’s head from boiling over.

“NO, NOoo, preposterous!”

No such luck then.

“No, the origins of the traditions of gift-giving—at Christmas—come from St. Nicholas. A Christian Saint! Likewise, the demon Krampus would kidnap naughty children and drown them or eat them or drag them to Hell!”

Ginny didn’t stop but she did slow her pace so she could turn her head. “What the actual fuck, Hermione?”

Hermione looked taken aback. “What?” 

“A demon who kidnaps children? What’s wrong with Muggles?”

Hermione slowed her pace but Ginny tightened her grip with her elbow. She was not stopping now, not when they were so close. The wind buffeted her parker and she did not want to be out here if it got worse.

“...Wixen hardly perfect... bloody fanatics...”

Ginny caught some of Hermione’s muttered ramblings. The sight of the Rookery coming into view over the crest of the hill was much more welcome. She staggered towards it as fast as her liquor-softened legs allowed, dragging her band of reprobates behind her.

They had no sooner crossed boundary line through a small rickety wooden gate when Ginny was slapped in the face with a blast of icy wind. She hastily wiped the stinging snow crystals from her face and jammed her hands back in her pockets. They were so bloody close. 

Luna slipped out in front of her and guided them through the snow-covered garden. She swayed back and forth as she walked. Ginny’s attention was torn between ensuring Luna didn’t tip over and encouraging Hermione to keep up. Hermione’s face was obscured by a curtain of curls as her head drooped but she was still muttering a tirade of slurred ramblings. 

It was definitely a Christmas miracle that they made it to the Lovegood’s backdoor without anyone falling over. Ginny huddled on the doorstep. A layer of snow carpeted the yard, obscuring the vibrant assortment of magical plants and herbs that usually grew there. Spring couldn’t come fast enough for her. Campfires, daisy crowns, and Quidditch. Yeah, spring was much better.

Ginny glanced at Luna. Why were they still standing out here? Luna looked back at her with the same crooked smile she’d had plastered on her face all night.

“Luna, where’s your wand?” Ginny asked with as much calm as she could muster.

“My wand?”

“Yes! Your wand. To unlock the door?”

“Oh,” Luna looked thoughtful. “The last time I had it I was showing Mr Weasley a spell for keeping Mokes out of his cabbage patch.”

“Luna—” This could not be happening. “—did you forget your wand?”

“I don’t know. That would be awfully silly of me if I did, wouldn’t it?” 

Ginny could blast the door down; it really wouldn’t be that big of a problem. She could just fix it later with— wait, what was…

Ginny reached up and pulled an object loose from Luna’s messy bun. Great, bloody great. She pressed Luna’s wand back into Luna’s hand. The snow had begun to settle in her hair. Luna looked ethereal with the moon shining in her protuberant eyes. Ginny couldn’t stay mad at her best friend, even when she was freezing half to death on her doorstep.

“Please Luna, please just unlock the damn door.”

Luna rapped her wand against the doorknob twice and it swung inwards with a groan. Ginny bundled a shivering Hermione inside and deposited her in the overstuffed red armchair closest to the fire. The house was warmer than outside. There were no cracks in the brickwork for the wind to whistle through, thanks to Hermione’s handiwork. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen the Hermione slumped in that chair, although she normally had a book open on her lap. A few stray coils of hair fell over Hermione's face and her lips hung slightly parted with her rhythmic breathing. She looked peaceful.

Luna had disappeared but Ginny wasn’t worried. She knew every nook and cranny of the Rookery. Last summer, after the war had officially ended, Ginny, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Harry and surprisingly, Draco Malfoy on occasion, had all spent weeks here helping Luna and her father rebuild. She and Luna had painted and decorated Luna’s room. The mural on Luna’s ceiling came last. Luna adamantly refused any help with it, so Ginny sat, legs crossed on the cool wooden floor, watching the masterpiece come to life. ‘ _It’s not the same_ ,’ Luna had said with her dreamy smile, _‘but we’re not the same either._ ’

The Lovegoods’ sitting room was just as chaotic as she remembered, though with fewer stacks of paper now that Mr Lovegood had a publishing office in Diagon Alley. Despite the bright yellow walls and an odd assortment of well-loved furniture and knick-knacks, it never quite felt as homely as the Burrow. 

The wood basket was thankfully full of kindling and small logs. Ginny drew her wand. Her vision had stopped wobbling not long after they’d cleared the Burrows yard, and she felt reasonably clear-headed.

She swished her wand between basket and potbelly stove. The kindling followed obediently, stacking itself in pile in the hearth. Ginny grinned, piece of piss.

“ _Incendio._ ” White-hot flames blasted from the end of her wand, engulfing the stove. She tripped backwards over the rug and slammed flat on her back. Startled out of her drunken stupor, Hermione leapt out of the chair, eyes wild and brandishing her wand. 

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

Shit. Shit, that was really stupid. Ginny slowly pushed herself up off the floor and raised her palms. Nothing was on fire that wasn’t supposed to be, thankfully.

“It’s alright Hermione,” Ginny said, keeping her voice calm and gentle. “We’re at Luna’s place. It’s Christmas. Do you remember?”

Hermione’s eyes darted around the room. Ginny reached forward and took Hermione’s free hand in her own. Hermione’s eyes snapped back to meet hers.

“We’re safe now, yeah?” Ginny nodded at Hermione and the woman copied her haltingly. She felt Hermione relax her grip, and Ginny gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Hermione’s expression relaxed into a frown.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t wake Mr Lovegood.”

“It’s quite alright, Daddy’s not here.” 

Wheather Luna had picked that exact time to reappear or if she had been standing there the entire time Ginny had no idea. Neither had any relevance to the sudden bombshell Luna had just dropped.

“WHAT!?”

The shout came from both her and Hermione in almost perfect synchronicity. 

“Your father left you alone on Christmas Eve?” The outrage in Hermione’s voice was clear.

“I wasn’t alone; I was with you,” Luna replied. In her hands, she held three large glass mugs of foaming Butterbeer.

“Yes, but—”

“And besides,” Luna continued as she glided the few short steps to Hermione’s side and pressed a mug into her hands. “Hulda is far more likely to visit without any adults in the house.”

A muffled choking sound came from Hermione, who was halfway through a gulp of Butterbeer. Ginny gently slapped her on the back until her coughing fit had subsided.

“There’s no such thing as a Santa witch!” Hermione insisted, the mug-free hand waving towards Luna for emphasis.

Ginny accepted the mug Luna was now offering her. Her favourite spot in the fuzzy purple and yellow striped armchair was free behind her and she sunk into it, careful not to spill her drink.

“They’re just pagan legends, St. Nicholas, Krampus, none of them are real!” 

“But how do you know that?” Luna asked serenely. She was now sitting cross-legged on the sofa, one hand on her drink, the other under her chin. 

“Because it’s a fact. You can read in any history book—”

Ginny tuned them out. She loved them both dearly but their arguments about the existence of anything Hermione hadn’t read about in a book could go on for hours. The Butterbeer was warm and sweet, but not overpoweringly so. It was doing an excellent job of warming her hands and her chest.

Over the noise of the ongoing debate, she caught something out of place. A high pitched jingling was coming from outside and it was getting closer. Ginny stood, placing her mug on the floor and drawing her wand.

“What is it?” Hermione asked. She and Luna were both standing now, wands at the ready.

“Do you hear that?” Ginny replied. Her brows creased. It was hardly a surprise attack with how loud the jingling was now. It might be a diversion though.

“Oh,” said Luna, “it’s Hulda’s elk’s bells.”

“Why would they be wearing bells?” Ginny asked

“They wear bells so that others on brooms will know to move out of their way. No one wants to be trampled by flying elk.”

“Elk. Don’t. Fly!” Hermione hissed at her.

From outside came the crunch of snow being displaced under heavy hoofbeats. Was whoever it was riding Thestrals?

“This isn’t happening,” Hermione growled mutinously, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s a prank. You’re just fucking with me to get me back for disagreeing with you all the time.”

The floor upstairs creaked. Two wands snapped to aim at the opening of the spiral staircase in the corner.

Ginny’s heart thudded in her ears. The house was completely silent save for the crackling of the fire and sporadic jingling. Maybe the Christmas Witch was real and they weren't all about to die in a terrible spellfight with Death Eater remnants or worse. 

A high pitched whistling call rang out, mingled with a low guttural roar. It was the most bizarre sound she had ever heard.

“What the hell was that?” Ginny whispered as loud as she dared.

“Oh, that’s a bugle,” replied Luna, “It’s the mating call of an elk. Isn’t it lovely?”

Ginny glanced at Hermione to see if she could offer a rational explanation for the sound but found the other woman glaring daggers at her. 

“Did she put you up to this?!” Demanded Hermione, “How the _fuck_ did you two manage to get eurasian elk all the way down to Ottery St Catchpole?”

“What are you talking about?” Ginny shot back, fixing Hermione with an equally fierce glare. “Are you telling me an elk isn’t one of Luna’s lost creatures?”

The jingling returned in full force, interrupting Hermione’s retort. Hooves crunched on snow, rounding the house and then it was just jingling, the sound fading with each passing heartbeat. 

Hermione spun and sprinted to the back door. Before Ginny could even process the movement, she flung it open and disappeared into the garden. Ginny bolted after her. Hermione hadn’t made it far; she stood just off the back step, staring up at dark shapes disappearing into the night sky leaving only a faint jingling behind. Ginny gawked up at them in disbelief. 

_Thuwph!_

Morganna be damned. She looked down at the source of the impact and found exactly what she had expected. Hermione lay face down in the snow. 

“Grab her legs will you?” Ginny sighed at Luna. Luna wordlessly obeyed. They carried Hermione inside and placed her gently on the sofa. Ginny shut the door and flopped back down on her chair. Thankfully, her Butterbeer was still warm.

Hermione had begun to stir almost immediately but it took a few minutes before she sat up. She refused to look at Ginny or Luna. They sat silently until Hermione said in a small voice, “I don’t know what that was, but I’m very tired and I think I need to go to bed.”

Ginny placed her now empty mug down on the floor and moved over to sit next to Hermione. She placed her arm reassuringly around her friend’s shoulders.

“Will you Apparate me back to the Burrow, please?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I think we should just stay here,” Ginny said. “We’ll be lucky if there’s even any comfortable spots of floor left by the time we get back. Unless you really want to try squeezing yourself into Ron’s bed with him and Harry? You know how badly he snores.” She gave Hermione’s shoulder a gentle nudge with her own. “The whole point of walking Luna back was because there was nowhere for her to stay, remember?”

Hermione didn’t argue. She just nodded. 

Ginny helped her up off the sofa. The three of them made their way up the narrow spiral stairs to Luna’s room on the third floor. Waiting for them on the bed were three gift-wrapped boxes.

“Oh how wonderful,” Luna said dreamily. She started towards them, but Ginny threw her arm out and grabbed her hand.

“Just.... Give me a minute, please,” Ginny asked, giving Luna a pleading look. Luna smiled back at her and gave a short nod.

Ginny stepped forward and waved her wand over them. She cast every revealing and detection spell Bill had ever taught her. There was no sign of any curses or hexes on them. The boxes were really just boxes.

She glanced back at her friends. “Should we open them?”

“It would be rude to reject a gift, don’t you think?” Luna replied.

Ginny picked up the closest one. Wrapped in bright orange with a yellow ribbon, a tag was attached to the bow and clearly written on it was the name, Hermione Granger. She passed it to the bushy-haired woman behind her. Hermione stared at it and chewed her bottom lip. She glanced up at Ginny before finally accepting it.

Luna was already carefully untying the ribbon on her gift. Ginny picked up the remaining box. It was the exact same weight as Hermione’s. She pulled the ribbon and the bow unfurled from around the box, the gift wrapping falling away like flower petals opening to reveal a forest green gift box. Ginny lifted the lid and gasped.

Inside sat a set of Holyhead Harpies flannel pyjamas. Bright gold snitches dotted the forest green top, and the pants were covered in gold and green check. They were made of the softest material Ginny had ever held in her hands.

A soft squeak of joy came from behind her. She turned to find Hermione holding a pair of silken looking periwinkle-blue pyjamas. Luna had already changed into what must have been her own gift, a pair of velvety yellow sleeping shorts and loose-fitting top covered in what could only be dirigible plums. 

Ginny turned to face the wall and started stripping out her damp winter wear. The pyjamas were a relief to put on after everything that had happened. They were immediately warm and she brushed her hands over the fuzzy fabric.

Luna had already enlarged her bed. Ginny clambered in and patted the spot in the middle. “Come on, Hermione.”

Hermione looked hesitant but climbed in, and Luna followed. It was a cosy fit. Ginny ended up spooning Hermione’s back, her arm falling across onto Luna. She felt Luna’s finger twine into her own.

“What are you hoping to get for Christmas Hermione?” Ginny asked.

There was no immediate answer, just the sound of their soft breathing.

“Well... I... I was hoping your Mum might knit me a Weasley sweater.” Hermione replied hesitantly.

Ginny smiled. Hermione would not be disappointed, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“What about you Luna?”

“Hmm, I’ve already gotten everything I wanted for Christmas,” Luna replied.

“How’s that?”

“You’ve both given me something very special by staying over tonight,” Luna said, “I can get quite lonely here with just Daddy and myself.”

Ginny squeezed Luna’s hand. “I’m sorry I haven't been around as much but I will be Luna. I’ll come and stay with you whenever you want,” she promised

The room was silent again until Hermione’s quiet sleepy voice spoke up. “I will too, Luna, send me an owl whenever you need us.”

Ginny snuggled deeper into Hermione’s back and let the sound of their rhythmic breathing carry her off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my work, hopefully, you enjoyed the read! I love getting feedback from my readers so drop me a comment or leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!


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